


Christmas At The Plaza

by ritalara



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: (No Will Daniels), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No SHIELD (Marvel), F/M, Fluff, Holidays, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, Romance, UGH MILTON
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28564029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritalara/pseuds/ritalara
Summary: Jemma Simmons is a historian who has been hired to research and create the famous holiday display at The Plaza Hotel in New York City. When she meets the hotel handyman assigned to help her on the project, anomosity turns to friendship...and maybe something more. What happens when Jemma starts to develop feelings for her coworker, all the while awaiting a potential Christmas proposal from her boyfriend?
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EclecticMuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclecticMuse/gifts).



> Happy Holidays Stephanie (eclecticmuses) and the whole FitzSimmons fandom! This is a FitzSimmons AU of the Hallmark movie of the same title that Elizabeth Henstridge starred in.

As Jemma Simmons made her way inside the golden framed revolving doors of The Plaza Hotel, the classic foyer came into view. She took in the elegant design, quickly placing the information she had been researching and smiled to herself, her chest tight as she bubbled with anxious excitement.

With eyes bright & wide she squared her shoulders and headed forward, however, her attention was soon broken by a ladder standing directly in the middle of the walkway to the concierge desk.

“Who would leave this here...” she muttered under her breath as she looked around curiously.

“That would be me.”

Jemma turned toward the voice and was met by a pair of striking blue eyes.

“Oh...”

It wasn’t like her to be at a loss of something to say, but the man’s height put him close to her eye level, and she found it hard to do much other than stare at his slightly boyish face.

“I...I didn’t - there wasn’t a sign, or -”

“You mean that sign?”

He seemed amused as his head turned toward a ‘caution’ placard on the floor, and something about the challenge in his gaze kept her from what might normally be a polite apology.

“Can you tell me where the concierge desk is?” she asked somewhat curtly instead, changing the subject.

“This way.”

He stepped back, gesturing with an open hand and Jemma smiled tightly then turned away, breaking his gaze before the blush threatening at her cheeks could display, and she shook off the encounter as she made a focused effort toward the concierge.  
“Hello, my name is Jemma Simmons and I’m here to meet with Ms. Carter.”

“Oh yes! You must be the historian here about the archival display,” the young man at the desk began.

“Miss Simmons?”

Jemma turned toward the voice calling her name and a sharply dressed older woman moved toward her with purpose.

“Ms. Carter I presume?”

“You can call me Peggy,”

She shook Jemma’s hand firmly and her bright smile was framed by a chic silvered brown hairdo.

“Oh. Yes, Ms...Peggy. Hello - I’m Jemma Simmons.”

“Yes, Jemma it's so lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise, I-”

“I’m afraid we’ve no time to waste dear, why don’t you follow me.”

She began at a clip and Jemma took heed. She had noticed from their previous email exchanges that Ms. Carter was direct and found her demeanor exciting if not a bit intimidating.

“All of the archives are in the basement and I’ve asked for someone from maintenance to be sent down to help you. He’s familiar with the past year’s Christmas displays and is quite sharp - he can assist you with anything you might need to find as well as with the design & installation.”

“Installation?”

She picked up her pace.

“Yes - the opening is set for the day after Thanksgiving so I’ll need an update by the end of the week to know what materials you’ll need ordered.”

“Materials?”

They finally stopped in front of a door and Peggy wrestled with the handle for a moment before giving the door a good shove with her shoulder.

“Keep in mind this lock sticks.”

“Ms. Carter,” Jemma started, following the older woman through the door as she turned on the light, “I think something may have been lost in translation - I’m here to do a research project on the history of The Plaza’s holiday displays.”

“Yes - and your presentation will itself be this year’s display, will it not?”

“Well, I...usually my research isn’t - I mean, I don’t-”

This Ms. Carter didn’t seem like someone who liked to be argued with.

“I’ve read your most recent research Ms. Simmons and it's quite good. The Plaza has a long history and in these boxes are stories of holiday tradition. I know you’ll tell them well.”

Peggy patted her shoulder and Jemma held her statement as both inspiring and daunting. She typically felt that through dealing with the facts of history she rather avoided the romanticism of storytelling. She much preferred to focus on what was real & true, and history was just that - details preserved through time.

“Ah, and here’s your partner in crime - Mr. Fitz, this is Ms. Simmons.”

Her attention was drawn towards the door and this time the stunning blue gaze she found was highlighted with mirth.

“You can call me Fitz,” he offered nervously, his hand extending.

“I’m Jemma - Jemma Simmons.”

Immediately, the warmth of his fingers wrapped around hers and she ignored the recurrence of heat gathering in her face as well.

“Well, I’ll let you two get to it and I’ll be back down before the end of the day to see how you're getting along.”

Out of the corner of her eye Jemma thought she might have seen a grin as Peggy left the room.

“There’s a step stool and ladder through here,” Fitz began to point out, “I promise I’ll try not to leave it in the middle of the room.”

Jemma blushed further as she removed her coat and surveyed the shelves.

“Where are the holiday records in particular?” she inquired professionally.

“Hard to say...”

Fitz was perusing the rows of boxes, neck craned as his palms settled on his lower back.

“Are these organized by date or subject?”

“Neither - I don’t think anyone’s been down here in years.”

She felt her stomach tighten.

“It could take weeks simply to sort through everything.”

Fitz turned to her, his eyes hinted with concern.

“Do you know what you’re looking for at least? We can start there.”

His face was gentler than she would have anticipated and she took in the softness of his brown flannel and rolled sleeves.

“It's alright, I can make do.”

She began to push up the sleeves of her own cream blouse and Fitz crossed his arms.

“So you’re gonna refuse my help?”

“No. That’s not...that’s not what I meant. Only that I am perfectly capable of finding what I need independently.”

This Fitz character was a bit forward for her taste. She barely knew the man and he already seemed stirring for an argument. Jemma watched for his response and he took a breath.

“Good, because the boxes are labeled and I know how to read, so why don’t I start by pulling anything from December.”

“That would...that would be helpful, thank you.”

Jemma offered him a closed mouth smile and Fitz took a beat to look at here before he turned away to start working.

“You can thank me when we’ve found something.”

___

It was 3 hours later when Fitz suggested that they take a break. He had pulled out multiple years worth of holiday boxes and the two of them had begun scanning the documents into her laptop. They worked together efficiently for the first part of the day and had already gotten through what Jemma estimated was a third of the records.

“I can call down for lunch if you like,” he offered, and she looked at the time.

“Oh, goodness, it is midday isn’t it? Yes, that would be lovely - if you don’t mind?”

He wiped his hands before pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and Jemma stood up to stretch. She had kicked off her shoes at some point and her hair that had started the day down was now rolled in a knot at the back of her head.

“I’m not taking up your lunch break am I?”

“No. I usually just stop for something to eat when I feel like it. Have a habit of getting caught up in what I’m doing. Seems like we might have that in common...”

Jemma noticed him smile to himself and the corners of her mouth turned up as well.

“How long have you worked here?”

“It's been about... four years - started when I was going to school for engineering.”

“You’re an engineer then?”

He nodded and began to speak into his phone.

“Hey it's Fitz, can I get a club sandwich down to the archives room? Yeah, extra bacon - and fries - and just a second -” he pulled the phone down.

“For you?”

“Oh, a - a club sandwich for me too - with salad, caesar?”

He nodded.

“ - and another club sandwich with caesar salad too - and two iced teas.”

Fitz put his thumb up as a question and Jemma nodded. He bowed his head back and thanked the person on the other end of the phone before hanging up.

“Daily room service - must be a nice perk,” Jemma teased, sitting back down and stretching out her legs.

“No complaints here.”

He eyed her for a moment before continuing.

“So... how about you, do you...do you usually work in the city?”

“Yes, often. I was upstate this summer however - at Cornell.”

“Is that where you went to school?”

“Oh no - I finished my PhD at Columbia last year.”

“Columbia? Really? Me too.”

Fitz had paused and was looking at her curiously.

“You have a PhD?”

“Yeah - in Mechanical Engineering - you?”

“History & Social Anthropology.”

He shook his head with a grin.

“Of course you have two PhDs.”

Before she could ask him more about his time at their shared alma mater Jemma was distracted by the ringing of her phone.

“Oh! It's my - excuse me.”

She stepped out of the room to answer.

“Milton?”

“Jemma. I texted twice, you haven’t responded.”

“Oh. I started the project at The Plaza today, sorry, I-”

“Okay. Well I only have a minute. I just wanted to let you know that my parents are coming in for Christmas. They want to meet you.”

“Oh!”

“They’re flying out - we’ll go somewhere nice on Christmas Eve. I made reservations.”

“Oh.”

For a reason she couldn’t quite discern Jemma’s stomach felt unsettled - she was probably just hungry.

“Well I’ve got to go - presenting my grant proposal in a few minutes. I’ll call you later.”

“Oh - yes, okay.”

She shook off her strange feelings as she hung up the phone and went back to Fitz. He had begun rearranging the boxes they had already gone through.

“Are you organizing those?”

“Might as well - you never know when a historian might show up looking for records.”

Jemma smiled big as she reached out to help him.

___

“He’s cute.”

Jemma was startled by the voice behind her.

“Finally lookin’ to trade in old Milt?” the young woman continued.

“Daisy... don’t start.”

Her friend came around the other side of the table and began to unbutton her coat.

“What in heavens is that?” Jemma asked, distracted by the garish red & green outfit underneath.

“Ah, yes... in the grand holiday tradition of New York City thespians, I am currently starring in the role of one of Santa’s elves at Macy’s.”

Daisy shucked off her top layers and sat down to the hot cocoa that Jemma had ordered for her, taking a long sip and settling in to the warmth of the cafe.

“So who’s the guy? He’s cute in a ‘your friend’s little brother who grew up while you were away at college and is a lot of fun to make-out with in your old bedroom’ kind of way.”

“What? That is... very specific.”

Daisy winked and Jemma decided not to ask.

“His name is Leo Fitz - I am working with him at The Plaza. I found out yesterday that we went to Columbia at the same time.”

“Do I know him?”

“I don’t think so - he was an engineering major.”

Daisy pulled over the computer and began clicking through the handful of photos on his Facebook page.

“Hmmm, it looks like we have a friend in common - Mack, my old landlord.”

“Oh! Yes! He was an engineer too, right?”

“Yeah - they must be friends - there’s a group picture here at some sort of shindig.”

Daisy turned the computer back around to where she had clicked into Mack’s profile. The slightly older man had quite a few more pictures, and Jemma found herself shuffling through them, absentmindedly searching for more of Fitz. She came back around to the summertime photo and subconsciously focused on his frame, simply clad in a white t-shirt and jeans.

She supposed Daisy was right, he wasn’t too bad to look at...objectively.

“Oh, we’re the same age - he’s 23 days older than me...” she pondered aloud as she continued scrolling up to his bio.

Eventually she looked up, realizing Daisy hadn't said anything, and the woman was wearing an amused look on her face.

Jemma’s eyes crinkled.

“What?”

“Jemma Simmons. I think you have a crush.”

“What? Don’t be silly, I’m researching.”

Daisy laughed aloud and shook her head as she took another sip of her drink.

“What does your boyfriend think of this research?”

Jemma chose not to dignify the question with an answer.

“I’ll have you know I looked up the woman I am working for too.”

“Oh yeah, when’s her birthday?”

She glared and Daisy put up her hands.

“Okay, I’m just kidding! So how is Milton then?”

“He’s ...well. Working on an important proposal and was invited to dinner at the dean’s house next week. His parents are coming up for Christmas too - he wants to do something special on Christmas Eve while they're here.”

“Really? Perhaps another kind of proposal?”

Jemma’s stomach knotted again.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s flying his parents up and wants you to meet them for the first time at a fancy dinner on Christmas Eve?”

“How did you - no, Daisy, it’s not like that.”

“Who planned the visit - him or them?”

“I don’t...I don’t know, I suppose - well, I assumed...honestly I'm not sure.”

They both took a drink in the silence and Daisy’s voice was gentler when she posed her next inquiry.

“Do you want him to propose?”

“We’ve only been dating a year.”

“Almost two.”

Jemma sighed.

“Do you intend to give me grief the entire time we’re here?”

“I’m sorry, I’ll back off - and I can tell you about my audition yesterday.”

“Thank you.”

As Daisy launched into the story, her question lingered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma & Fitz continue their project and get to know each other better

“Hmmm, we seem to be missing 1969.”

“Really?”

Fitz leaned over Jemma’s shoulder, following along as she flipped through the scanned documents.

“Yes. We have a photo of a couple in front of the tree every year...except that one.”

Jemma & Fitz had discovered that each year there seemed to be a ceremonial photo of a happy couple in front of the Christmas tree. After the ninth or tenth similar photo it had struck Jemma that it could be exactly the type of story Ms. Carter - Peggy - was looking for the archive display to tell.

“I must have missed a box.”

Fitz stood up and began circling the room, eyes panning across the files that were now neatly labeled and organized by month and year.

“I sincerely doubt it - we’ve spent the last 3 days categorizing everything.”

“Maybe it’s in another storage closet somewhere,” he considered aloud.

“I thought there weren’t any other records rooms?”

“There’s a boiler room. If anything got misplaced it might be there. Come on.”

He nodded his head towards the door and waited for her to get up.

“Oh no, you don’t have to go to the trouble.”

“Jemma.”

His head turned her way with a look she had somehow already become familiar with.

“Yes?”

“Would you stop doing that?”

His tone was slightly exasperated but almost affectionate.

“What?”

“Acting like this is an inconvenience to me.”

Taken aback, but not wanting to let him see her flustered, she responded quickly.

“I just - I’m sure you’ve got other things you could be working on.”

“Sure, but right now we’re working on this - together,” Fitz shrugged.

“So you do have other things you’d rather be doing?”

“I didn’t say that.”

He continued moving through the doorway and she followed.

“Then tell me what you would be working on if I wasn't here.”

For a reason she couldn’t quite place Jemma was now intrigued by what he would normally be up to.

“Still the Christmas display. Peggy has me build it every year.”

“You always build the displays?”

He nodded, gesturing toward another doorway, which he opened to reveal a set of stairs.

“Watch your step.”

He swung open the heavy metal, going ahead of her with the flashlight from his phone, and Jemma heeded his warning, keeping her hand on the rail as she went down the cement steps.

“How many years have you been doing them then?”

“Um, this’ll be the third...no, fourth year.”

“Did you save any - oh!”

Jemma looked up as she spoke and lost her footing on the second to last step. As she began to tumble forward he turned at her exclamation and Fitz’s chest and arms caught her squarely.

She thumped against him as she found her feet again and her heart thudded at the surprise. Jemma turned to look where she had tripped but his phone was clutched in his hand tight against her back, extinguishing the light momentarily and bathing them in darkness.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, heart still racing, and as she turned to face him, the air seemed to settle over them. Jemma’s eyes adjusted to the dark, and she could just make out the outline of his mouth. She could hear both of their breathing and feel his chest rising and falling, her hands pressed against it.

“Jemma?”

His voice was almost a whisper and it wasn’t until his fingers reached up to push a lock of hair out of her face that she realized he had loosened his grip.

“Yes...”

As Fitz’s hand settled on her neck Jemma’s eyes unwittingly flitted closed. Whether it was a second or a minute she didn't know but his face seemed to inch closer and she felt herself anticipating whatever might come next.

Fitz’s hand dropped as he stepped away, pulling his phone back out in front of them.

“Let me see if I can find a real light.”

____

The rest of the afternoon was hinted with quiet as they continued their search for the mysterious box and came up empty handed. When it was past dark outside and getting close to dinner Fitz was the first to speak.

“Should we close up shop? Don't you need to get to your party?”

Jemma gasped and looked quickly at the time.

“Oh my goodness - Milton’s dinner! I can’t believe I almost forgot!”

She scrambled up and began to gather her things.

“Thank you so much for reminding me, I didn’t even see the time.”

“It's okay - go ahead and I’ll clean up.”

She stopped.

“You don’t have to, I can -”

“Jemma, it’s fine - go, I’ll close up and we can get back to it tomorrow.”

She opened her mouth to offer to help again but he was already sorting out their work for the next day.

“Thank you,” she said instead, “...and...thank you for - for earlier - for being there to...catch me.”

He took a breath as he nodded, glancing up at her.

“Yeah, of course - anytime.”

He didn't look away and Jemma found herself wanting to reach out to him. As her hand headed towards his shoulder however, she pulled it back, immediately unsure of her own intentions. She fought the urge to say something more as she turned down the hall, and minutes later as she stood on the street waiting for her car, Jemma couldn't ignore how deeply she wished she didn't have to go. Something felt unfinished, and deep down she knew it wasn’t the work.  
___

Milton’s idea of fun seemed to involve interrupting Jemma every time she tried to eat something, and she wondered if she was being punished. To add insult to injury, his attempts to impress his colleagues kept getting derailed whenever someone asked her what she was currently working on.

“Perhaps next time someone asks, you don't have to mention that you’re researching Christmas trees...” he said quietly, a smile plastered on his face as their latest conversation partners stepped away.

“Perhaps if I told them it's a study on the cultural significance of dendrochronology and paganistic solstice ritual in architectural design they’d be less elitist about it.”

Were Jemma not so peckish she might not have been quite so on edge. For something to do, she handed Milton her empty glass and traded him to drink the rest of his. He was less than amused.

“Perhaps you should slow down?” Milton suggested more seriously.

Jemma sighed.

“Perhaps I should go home.”

“Perhaps that’s not a bad idea.”

She had no further pithy reply and while she should be alarmed by his rudeness, it was not all that surprising. This was certainly not the first academic cocktail party that she had felt out of place at. Something about Milton’s particular group of colleagues always left her feeling like the outsider. They tolerated her attendance the same way they did the other spouses and partners of their little in crowd, even though she herself was an accomplished historian and researcher.

“Listen,” Milton set both glasses down, “I know you’ve been working long hours, and the last thing I want is for you to wake up in the morning with a champagne hangover regretting something you said to a tenured professor.”

Jemma believed there was caring buried somewhere in his concern, but it was wrapped quite heavily in a selfishness she found much less than appealing.

“Why don’t you go home and get some rest and I’ll call you in the morning?” he pressed.

She partially agreed with him - at least the bit about her working long hours, and really, it had only been an hour ago that she had been wishing she didn’t have to attend the soiree. Jemma tried not to let herself be reminded of her reasoning, and without much further ado she found her coat and stepped out to call a car. Upon its arrival she was quickly reminded she’d barely had anything to eat and was still hungry.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I change the stop - there’s a restaurant near here - I think it’s still open.”

As Jemma changed her destination to a diner Fitz had mentioned, her stomach growled quietly at the thought of a cheeseburger & french fries. She was happy to see it looked inviting when she arrived, and as she stepped up to ask for a table, her stomach flipped when she spotted a familiar face. He seemed to have a similar reaction, freezing as he dipped his sandwich in au jus, and Jemma greeted him with a small wave.

“Here you go miss.”

The server handed her a menu as he walked her towards Fitz’s table, and before she could correct him, he was helping her with her coat.

“I just stopped by for a bite - I can ask for my own-”

“No! I mean, here, please, sit down,” he gestured, “I...I’m, is it - do you have anyone with you?”

“Oh no, just me.”

Fitz’s eyes followed her as she sat down, and Jemma suddenly felt self conscious about the cocktail dress she had on.

“I suppose I look weird all dressed up like this,” she offered, hand fiddling nervously at her hair.

“No. You look nice.”

It would have been hard to mistake the trajectory of his gaze and Jemma felt her cheeks burn.

Damn champagne.

Fitz seemed to blink himself back in to focus.

“Do you know what you’d like? The french dip here is good,” he motioned to his own plate, “and the grilled cheese.”

“I’d love a cheeseburger.”

“Good choice.”

He raised his arm for their waiter to return and after Jemma placed her order he continued.

“So I take it dinner wasn’t very appetizing?”

Jemma sighed.

“Didn't make it past the hors d'oeuvres. I was ...tired so I decided to leave early.”

She decided against delving further into the story. There were a dozen things she would rather discuss with Fitz than her tiff with Milton.

“So you haven’t eaten since lunch?”

“I did manage to get my hands on one canopé. It was some sort of pâté rubbish though.”

His face soured and he turned his plate, angling the onion rings her direction.

“Here - have something to tide you over.”

She smiled big as she took one and Fitz grabbed another.

“Cheers.”

He smiled back as they both enjoyed the crispy snack and a warmth settled in Jemma’s chest. Fitz quickly offered another ring which she accepted and then she helped herself to a third while she waited for her own food. When it arrived he quickly grabbed a couple fries and Jemma nodded her encouragement.

“It's only fair.”

She couldn’t help but notice how simple it felt to sit with him and swap sides, and it couldn’t be helped when she considered that it was something her & Milton never did. He wasn’t particularly keen on sharing food and furthermore she didn’t know if she’d ever once felt the same amount of ease with him the entire time they’d been dating.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Fitz asked as he snagged a couple more fries.

“Oh...I was just...thinking it's been quite a while since I had a good burger.”

“Oh yeah - where then? I’m always on the lookout for new restaurants.”

He settled back into the booth as he awaited her answer, pushing aside his now empty plate.

“Oh...I’m not sure...I haven't been there yet but I’ve heard Tavern29 is very good.”

Fitz nodded.

“Definitely. Do you like truffle fries?”

Jemma’s eyes widened as she nodded enthusiastically. Fitz broke into a wide smile.

“They have parmesan truffle fries that could make a grown man weep.”

She laughed around a bite of her food and quickly grabbed a napkin as she sputtered.

“Sorry about that,” he chuckled back, handing her an extra as she wiped at her mouth.

“Here, you missed a spot.”

Fitz reached forward and before she realized what he was doing he had wiped a speck off her chin. As he pulled away she wondered if he could see the flush on her cheeks.

“So yeah, it's, um - it's over near Madison Square Park, by the National -”

“- Museum of Math.”

He nodded and Jemma felt her chest constrict.

All in an instant a vision flashed through her mind of she and Fitz, walking hand in hand through the museum. He would explain how each of the exhibits were constructed, she would share historical facts that weren’t listed on the placards, and afterward, they’d go for a bite to eat.

As the notion flitted through her mind she felt her stomach ache as well.

“...is everything okay...?”

She wished desperately that she could think of something work-related to change the subject to.

“Yes, I’m just fine - tired I suppose. Thank you for letting me sit with you, we should probably get going soon - back at it tomorrow and all that.”

She had to look away as she saw Fitz’s face fall and he had his wallet out by the time the server arrived with their bill.

“You get next time yeah?”

Next time.

A part of her wanted to smile at the idea of another dinner or lunch seated across from him, but the other part, the bigger part perhaps, was quite mixed up at the idea. Jemma simply smiled and nodded, and Fitz began to get up and gather his coat.

“Can I walk you somewhere? You’re uptown, right?”

“Oh, yes, but I’ll call a Lyft - you don’t have to wait.”

She didn’t meet his eyes as she put on her own winter jacket and gloves.

“You’re doing it again,” he said quietly.

Jemma looked up and he was gazing at her, eyebrows expectant.

“What?”

“It's no trouble, rather the opposite, I-” Fitz stopped himself - “...I’d like to make sure you get into a car safe, okay?”

The ease she had felt earlier in the evening had been replaced by a tension that she wanted to pretend she didn’t understand. But the soft earnesty in his eyes made it impossible to argue.

“Thank you.”

The wait was brief as she watched for the driver pictured on the mobile app, and Fitz filled it quickly.

“Hey, we should ask Peggy on Monday about 1969 - I think she worked at the hotel then, as a receptionist or something - she might know where we could find the picture.”

“Really?”

He nodded with one of his signature grins and she wanted to hug him. Instead, Jemma wrapped her arms around herself. As her ride pulled up, Fitz unsurprisingly, but no less heartwarmingly, opened the door for her, and leaned down as she got in the car.

“See you next week?”

Jemma could only nod.


End file.
